Last summer I posted a blog about my possessed Toyota. It’s called Trevor Christine if you need to catch up. It occurred to me that some people may doubt the validity of my story. So I decided to prove it. The proof quest took some time because, well, I kept forgetting to document the odd behavior until I was driving. Or maybe Trevor Christine knew what I was up to and foiled my attempts? Hmmm.
Think I’m a fibber?
Yesterday I finally remembered to film my proof.
I clicked play and pushed my radio buttons and… it worked. Clever Trevor Christine. Clever. I erased the first attempt.
Then I thought, you know, I think I’ll keep all the attempts I make to show everyone my possessed car. The failed attempts will more fully prove my point. I think. Or demonstrate that I’m slightly nuts. Either or here.
Notice how innocent it acts. I should mention that between my first attempt in the parking lot at work and this attempt in my garage at home, it did not work at all. I was stuck listening to a stupid song all the way home because when I tried to change the station it would turn off completely – and ejected the CD.
The next day I decided to try again. Same parking lot at work. Same time of day as the very first attempt.
Right. I told you it is possessed. Possessed things sure are stinkers.
So, I tried tricking it. I pulled out of my spot but before I pulled out of the parking lot I tried again.
All right, this car proved a worthy opponent.
Let’s not go into details on how I procured this footage (it’s not important). Game, set, match.
I admit, for, uh, reasons unknown the first part of the videography is so bad it’s hard to tell what’s going on until the end. Trust me when I say that the first button I pushed was radio preset one. It not only turned off the radio but also ejected the CD.
Let’s not lose sight of what the important here, people. The fact is I drive a possessed car. At the very least, Trevor Christine is a little stinker. Right?